This morning Gavin made a batch of oatmeal for breakfast. He was trying a new brand of oats and he didn’t feel comfortable cutting the recipe down on the first go so I got a bowl of oatmeal as well.
I was multi-tasking: skimming my most recent Cooks Illustrated, balancing Patrick on my lap, and half-heartedly eating the bowl of oatmeal that Gavin had attempted. I wasn’t really paying attention until P lunged for a spoon loaded with oatmeal.
P looked very confused, a few moments later I had sticky, tepid baby-drool-oatmeal vigorously tongue-thrust all over my pants. P then repositioned himself and lunged for my boobs instead with far more satisfying results (for him).
I think we will wait a little longer before intentionally introducing solids.